Page 24 of Raisa's Cursed Ravens
For a second, I think I see a flash of color in its eye, a swirl of green, a sliver of gold. It’s gone in an instant, but it leaves me shaking, my skin prickling with anticipation.
The birds fall silent again, but the feeling in the room remains.
I climb to my feet, resting my forehead against the glass, and let myself believe that something will change, that the forest will hear my wish. That somewhere, out in the wild dark, the men are waiting for me.
I close my eyes, heat and hunger and hope all twisted together.
In the silence that follows, I swear I hear a heartbeat that’s not my own. I feel it pulsing beneath my skin, and I feel powerful in a way I never have before.
I smile, even as tears slip down my cheeks.
Maybe tonight, I’ll dream of them.
Maybe tomorrow, they’ll come.
6
A Flicker of Hope
Bran
My brothers and Iwait in the shadow of the castle, not a word passing between us. There’s nothing left to say, anyway. Raisa asked us to take her away—to free her, with wild magic glowing in her eyes while she whispered her truth. She’s made her choice now, and we’ll fall, down to the last of us, if that’s what it takes to grant her wish.
The only sound is the distant, muffled footfalls of the king’s guards up on the ramparts. Like usual, they don’t notice us. We blend into shadows like smoke.
Even though I don’t need them, I push my glasses higher on my nose. Old habits die harder than men, and the glasses are a familiar comfort. They’re a useful tool, too. A man with poor vision isn’t a threat, or so our enemies think.
Rune is already up the tower wall, his pale hands pressed to the stone just beneath Raisa’s sliver of a window. He’s muttering under his breath, painting runes in the air with one finger—a counterspell to the ones layered on the tower to keep her inside. He never tells the rest of us what he’s doing, but I see the blue static in his eyes and the way he grins when ancient magic snaps beneath his touch.
Talon keeps watch, crouched on the balls of his feet, his eyes narrowed in a predator’s squint.
Sable can’t keep still. He’s pacing in tight, silent circles like a viper waiting to strike.
Shade and Grim guard the perimeter, each a black shadow with violence in reserve.
Onyx lingers at my shoulder, the only one who doesn’t look at the tower. He watches me instead, as if he can see through to what I’m planning.
When Rune drops from the wall, he lands so softly it barely rustles the grass.
We all turn toward him.
“The ward is weak,” he whispers, his face split in a dark smile. “We have five minutes, maybe less. If we wait much longer, the spells will snap back.”
Shade’s voice is a rumble. “Who’s going in to bring her out?”
All eyes turn to me.
It’s not just because I’m the best at passing for human. It’s because I look the least like what I am. I smile like a courtier.I say please and thank you. I can talk my way into a party or a jail cell without being recognized. I look like a scholar, a scribe. Harmless.
We all know that’s a lie. I kill just because I can.
I give the barest nod, and Sable cackles. “He’ll talk her into jumping out the window.”
“You want her alive, don’t you?” I ask.
Grim’s lips curl, his expression tight. “Obviously.”
Shade cuts the conversation off with a gesture. “Go.”
